


A Study in Crimson

by Kateifer



Series: Elementary, My Dear Roxas - Series 1 [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateifer/pseuds/Kateifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been six months since Roxas woke up in a hospital with a wounded shoulder and no memories of his life aside from his name.  And in those six months, little has changed.  Until the day that an old friend finds Roxas and is unintentionally responsible for him and an eccentric detective named Axel meeting.</p><p>Meanwhile, Scotland Yard investigates a series of deaths involving bodies being found without their hearts, lacking any external signs of the removal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Crimson

**Series of Missing Persons Likely Connected**  
Kitty Reilly, Staff Reporter

In the early hours of Sunday morning, the body of George Lyons was found in a disused office building. Police were called to the scene at three in the morning to investigate. The body was later discovered to be missing its heart, despite there being no signs of it being forcibly removed. 

The police have issued an official statement saying that this death and those of Amy Richards and Daniel Smith are connected. Since the second body was found, Scotland Yard has been investigating the incidents as linked, but it was only last night that there was a press conference being held by Detective Inspector Zexion ____ and Officer Kairi ____.

“These deaths are clearly linked,” D.I. Zexion ____ replied to the questions as to why they were being investigated by Scotland Yard, despite the claims that they were not murders. When these questions continued pressing for more information, Officer Kairi urged the reporters to change the subject. D.I. Zexion continued to explain that reasonable precautions should be taken into account, if people were concerned. 

When D.I. Zexion said that people were all as safe as they made themselves, each reporter in the room received a text message that read “Wrong.” The sender was an anonymous number. Officer Kairi said to disregard the texts. D.I. Zexion then went on to explain that they had their best people on patrols and the investigations, and a second text came with the same contents. D.I. Zexion and Officer Kairi then closed the press conference, avoiding further questions from reporters.

*** 

“Man down!”

“Medic!”

“He'll bleed out if-”

“Medic down! Call for-”

The shouting, gunfire and rushed footfalls all echoed in Roxas' ears as he bolted upright, his hands clutching at the soft surface underneath him tightly. As the dreams slipped away, he found that he was sitting in his small bedroom. Images of sand and heat and screams melted away to the silence of his somewhat cold, one-room apartment. The sweat that coated his skin had long since cooled, and he could feel his throat was dry and raw – he had been screaming again. The aggravated sigh grated at his throat as he picked up a pen and notebook from his bedside table, frowning at the way his hands shook. He scrawled down the few images he remembered from his dream into the journal, wasting no time with flowery poetics. The few images he could remember were hazy and distant.

“There, that'll keep Ella off my back,” Roxas grumbled before getting out of bed, then went about getting ready for the long and boring day that loomed before him.

***

“So, when you have these dreams, when you think about them later, how does that make you feel?”  
“Same as always,” Roxas shrugged, “Like watching some kind of worn-out movie. It's blurred and I don't recognize any of it as real. But I woke up in a cold sweat and my throat was sore from screaming in my sleep.”

“So, they clearly have an impact on your subconscious, but you can't make that connection to them when you wake up.”

“That about sums it up.”

“And they never trigger any memories?”

“No,” Roxas replied, “All the proof that I have to go on that anything like that happened to me at all is what people have told me. Nightmares aren't exactly solid proof of anything.” Roxas' patience was really being tested. He was being asked the same questions that he had always been asked. Nothing changed.

“As far your doctors and I can tell, those dreams are a manifestation of your PTSD. They're flashbacks, not just images your imagination is coming up with.”

“Yeah, yeah, you've said this before.”

“Believe it or not, these nightmares are actually a good sign,” Ella tried to sound cheerful, “Flashbacks only begin to set in like this when patients with PTSD are adjusting back to a normal life. It's a sign that you are starting to cope with your trauma well.”

“Doesn't really feel that way. I can't even remember this 'traumatic' event. The only proof I have that it happened at all are the scars and the fact that my brother told me about it. Nothing about this situation makes sense to me. I remembered my name, age, and pretty much how to use my body as a relatively normal human being. Beyond that? Not a thing. Sora is helping to fill in the gaps but there's still a lot missing. He doesn't know all the details himself, and I have no reason to believe anyone but him.”

“Roxas, you need to open up and trust-”

“What? Trust the doctors? Trust you?” Roxas scoffed, “Why? The whole lot of you are strangers to me. I can believe Sora, because he shows me proof. I can trust him. Why should I trust anything you have to say?”

“You know we're not lying to you, Sora has told you all about your past. We really are trying to help you.”

“And just look at all the good it's done me. I've done your self-reflection exercises, I've kept this dream journal since the nightmares started, I've even started a blog like you asked, though I don't see why you think it'll help.”

“Writing about your life could trigger something in your memory,” Ella explained.

“Nothing happens to me! What am I even supposed to write about?” Ella seemed ready to reply again, but Roxas cut her off, “No, really, why should I believe that you can fix this? I met you six months ago and I've done everything you and those doctors told me. Nothing helps. You haven't helped me at all. I know you say it takes time, but I can't do this anymore, alright? I think we're done here.” 

Without another word from either of them, Roxas stood from the sofa and stormed out of the room, only stopping to grab his jacket hanging by the door.

***

It occurred to Roxas that he should probably feel badly about his outburst with Ella, but he couldn't really bring himself too. He had hated all of it; the constant attempts to bring back his memories, the almost daily appointments with other doctors, toying around with medications and painkillers and rehabilitation for his injuries, but most of all he hated the therapy. It was the least helpful part of his 'healing process' and only left him with a nagging sense of emptiness and brokenness. What kind of person just couldn't remember their entire life? Ella unfortunately got the brunt of his frustration and anger at his situation. His messed up situation wasn't her fault, on some level he knew that, but she hadn't helped. He felt a bit relieved to have finally deciding to stop the therapy.

He sighed and turned the page of the newspaper that he had been reading – some article about a series of strange deaths – then folded it down halfway so it wasn't blocking the view surrounding him. It was a quiet little coffee shop, one he frequented since it was near the hospital and Ella's office. It didn't see much traffic besides doctors, nurses, and medical students from St. Bart's. Not exactly a rowdy bunch. And it was a place for Roxas to calm down after the frustrating appointments.

Shortly after Roxas resumed his reading, wondering just how these deaths were even possible, his thoughts were cut off by a voice.

“Roxas?” When Roxas looked up at the source of the voice, he saw a woman standing there, studying him a bit. “I knew it, it is you! How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while.”

“Oh, we know each other?” he asked, looking her over. Nothing about her short black hair, bright blue eyes, or sweet smile rang any bells. It was strange, though. When he looked at this woman, despite not knowing her or having seen her before, he felt something he only ever felt for one person before. Like he was forgetting something really important.

“Haha, Roxas, really funny,” she clapped him on the shoulder, “Come on, you stopped answering my letters for over six months and this is the greeting I get?” Roxas hadn't encountered this kind of a situation before, so he gestured to the seat on the other side of his small table. He folded his paper completely and set it aside. The woman sat down across from Roxas, an eyebrow raised at him as she did. She set her paper cup down on the table in front of her, then looked at him.

“Seriously, Roxas, what's going on here?”

“It's kind of a long story,” Roxas replied, “I guess I'll just get right to it. I don't remember anything about my life up until six months ago.”

“What? Come on, Roxas, quit messing around.”

“I'm not messing around, I'm serious,” Roxas sighed, “I know it sounds weird, but it's true.”

“Oh,” came the reply, and the woman in front of him looked a bit lost for a reaction. She was quiet for a moment, looking down at the cup in front of her. After a few moments, she looked back up at Roxas with a sad look. A pang of guilt shot through Roxas, but he shrugged it off. “So when you say you don't remember me, you're not joking.”

“Sorry, I'm not,” Roxas mumbled.

“It's not like it's your fault,” she answered, seeming to consider something for a moment, “Well, let's start again. I'm Xion ____.” And Roxas couldn't explain why, but he chuckled a bit and shook her extended hand.

“I'm Roxas ____,” he answered, “And that's the only thing I can tell you about myself.” A sad laugh came from Xion, and she let go of his hand.

“Fair enough,” Xion replied, standing up and picking up her coffee, “Unless you have somewhere to be, why don't I try to fill in some of those blanks for you? I have to get back to my office, but if we hurry, I can show you a thing or two before I go back to work.” Roxas considered the offer for a moment, and then stood up, pulling his jacket back on and grabbing his things. While Xion did the same, Roxas gave himself a moment to decide that for now, he had nothing to lose by trusting her, and maybe something to gain. Besides, his gut told him that she was trustworthy. When she was ready, she offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and then made her way to the door, Roxas following just a few steps behind.

***

“Here!” Xion pulled out a glossy black photo album from on top of her filing cabinet, then handed it over to Roxas to look at. Xion had taken Roxas over to St. Bart's, where she explained that he worked. When they went down to one of the lowest levels, Roxas was a bit surprised. Her office was cramped and small, but it was her own. But those thoughts were put out of his mind when he opened the folder, and saw a number of pictures of them together. They looked a bit younger, but it was unmistakable that it was them. There were a lot of them together, most in cramped dorm rooms and outside of what looked like a school. Stunned, he sat down in a nearby chair and flipped through the book. There were a lot of Xion with other people, too, at parties and in dorm rooms together and some eating meals out. Roxas featured in a lot of them too, and the two of them looked happy together. While he looked, Xion stood behind him and looked over his shoulder at the photos.

“We were at the same school,” Xion explained, “You for medicine, and me for biology and forensic science. After we graduated, you enlisted and started training with the army.” Roxas nodded and turned over to the last page of the slim album. There were a lot of Xion at what appeared to be her graduation ceremony, with a lot of people but Roxas was usually somewhere in the background at least, not in a gown but looking well-dressed. In others, the roles were reversed, with Xion in a dress and Roxas in a graduation gown. There was one of the two of them in formal clothes, arms around each others shoulders, standing in front of a fountain.

“I'm sorry,” Roxas mumbled, “I don't remember any of this. I believe you, but I can't remember it.” A nagging voice wondered why he didn't doubt her explanations, but another told him that it was fine. She couldn't be making all of this up, after all.

“Like I said before, it's not like you can help it,” Xion replied, taking the book back when he held it out for her, “But I can try to fill in some more of the blanks for you, when I finish the work I have to do.” Once the photo was away, she put on a headband to push her bangs out of her face, then slipped on a lab coat that was hanging by the door.

“What is it that you do all the way down here?”

“I'm a morgue attendant. Not exactly a cheerful part of the hospital, I know,” she gestured to the office, “But it works. You can wait here, if you want, I see you brought your paper to read. I just have one more body to look at then we can talk some more.”

“Oh,” the casual explanation of such a morbid job struck him, “Right, well, see you soon.”

“I'll be an hour or so at most,” she answered, “Make yourself comfortable.” With that, Xion left the office and made her way down the hall. Roxas stayed where he was sitting, a chair in front of her desk, and pulled out his paper. Well, it wasn't the usual cafe, but it was quiet. At first, though, he couldn't bring himself to focus on the paper, he was a bit busy considering the new information.

His brother should have mentioned Xion before, but why didn't he? Well, to be fair, Roxas hadn't seen much of Sora since coming back. Between Sora working and Roxas constantly being at appointments, there wasn't much time to talk. So far, Sora had been focusing on telling Roxas about their family and about them growing up together. He trusted Sora, too. He had the same feeling with him that he did with Xion. They were both important, and he knew somehow that he could trust the information they gave him. Roxas made a note to ask Sora about Xion when they met up next.

A few minutes passed in silence, and Roxas had moved on from the article about the deaths to a story about some lecture series coming to the city with some hotshot professor. It was a bit boring, but it passed the time. When he heard footsteps coming down the hall again at a brisk pace, Roxas didn't think anything of it. That was until those footsteps turned into the room, and a posh accent started going on before he even entered the office.

“I need to see Lyons' body once you've finished the post- oh, she's not in.”

Roxas set the paper on Xion's desk and turned in his chair to see who was standing behind him. He was greeted with the sight of one of the strangest looking men he had ever seen. Six foot something, rake thin, draped in a black wool trench coat and expensive suit, a very put-together look for a man with facial tattoos under each emerald eye and a head of deep red spikes that looked almost lethal.

“If you're looking for Xion, she's busy.”

“I'll wait, then,” he made his way over to sit down in the chair next to Roxas', visibly sulking at the fact that he had to wait.

“Who are you, anyway?” the silence was broken by Roxas' question.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because you came rushing in asking about bodies. You're not a doctor and it's not like she has any living patients, so who are you?” Roxas was feeling slightly on edge with the other man waiting in the office.

“Well spotted,” came the response, dripping with sarcasm, “I could ask the same about you. It's not like the morgue sees many living ex-soldiers either.”

“Wait, what?”

“It's not like soldiers just come to look at the corpses-”

“No, no, I mean, how did you know that?” Roxas hadn't even been able to remember it for himself, but this stranger knew that about him after only being in the same room for about a minute.

“Your posture, even when sitting, is very straight. Your shirt and trousers are well-pressed, clearly a habit left over from keeping your uniform pristine during your service. That combined with how you are leaning to favour your shoulder – clearly badly injured, probably with some nerve damage, which suggests soldier as opposed to law enforcement – paints a pretty clear picture,” the stranger explained in rapid-fire, then grinned. The confidence in that grin was grating on Roxas' nerves.

“Am I wrong?” the stranger asked after a few moments passed in silence.

“No,” Roxas looked away when he saw the smirk broaden.

“You seem a tad moody. But I suppose the nightmares are keeping you up at night.”

“How could you possibly know about those?”

“Bags under your eyes, short temper, and a situation serious enough to get you sent home? It's not too much of a stretch to assume that you have some kind of nightmares as the result.”

“You need to stop doing that,” came a voice from the doorway. The two turned to see Xion standing just inside, removing her lab coat and hanging it on a hook by the door, “Sorry, he's always like that.”

“Xion,” the stranger stood up, “I need to see a body. It's for a case.”

“No problem,” Xion replied, “Can I see the paperwork from DI Zexion?”

“I didn't have time to get it. Xion, this is urgent, you have a body in the morgue that I need to see immediately.”

“We have gone over this,” Xion answered evenly, “You need to start providing paperwork to get access to the bodies. I can't be caught doing this for you again or I'll be fired.”

“But Xion-”

“No buts. No paperwork, no access.” Xion then went over to sit in her chair, looking at Roxas who was still sitting. Axel sighed dramatically and sat back down, shaking his head.

“The trail will go cold,” he huffed.

“Then you should have brought the paperwork,” Xion replied, “So, Roxas, I see you've met Axel.”

“Not so much met as sat beside while he told me my own life story,” Roxas replied, “Well, as much as I know about it, anyway.”

“He does that,” Xion chuckled, “I bet he'd tell you about the parts that you don't remember, too.”

“Trauma-induced memory loss, too?” Axel asked, “Man, you've really got it rough.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” Roxas snapped.

“Boys, please,” Xion interrupted. She seemed to be signing a few papers, but she was still listening. “Axel, you come to me first thing in the morning with that paperwork and I'll make sure you get access to the body.”

“Fine. But if the case goes cold, I'm blaming you.”

“I can live with that,” Xion closed the file in front of her and looked up to Roxas, “So, Roxas, where are you staying these days? We could go to your place or mine to talk some more.”

“Your place would be better,” Roxas replied, feeling relieved as Axel stood up to leave, “My place is horrible. I'm trying to find a new place, but I can't afford anything else.”

“That's a shame, well, if there's anything I can-”

“Here,” Roxas turned around when Axel spoke up from behind him, and produced a business card from his pocket, “I have my eye on a place. There's another room available, and the decrease in rent would be appreciated.”

“Seriously?” Roxas raised an eyebrow, “You want me to move in with you?”

“It works out for both of us,” Axel set the card down on the desk when Roxas refused to take it, “If you decide to take my offer, give me a call.” Without waiting for a further answer, Axel left the room, and Roxas turned to look at Xion.

“It's not a bad-”

“It really is,” Roxas replied, standing from the seat, “Come on, you said we could talk more. I'd rather worry about that.” Xion nodded and stood, getting ready to go and brave the cold London weather. While she was distracted, Roxas grabbed the card off of the desk and shoved it into his pocket.

Just in case he was in dire straits.

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to AkuRoku day this year! Any and all constructive criticism appreciated and encouraged.
> 
> Thank you to my friends who Beta'd for me.


End file.
